


That Time (at that place where we did that thing)

by Deejaymil



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Crack, Multi, Revenge Smut, Ridiculous, i'm in a mood, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9486230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deejaymil/pseuds/Deejaymil
Summary: Silence fell on the room as they stared at the roof, all with a careful distance between them so they weren’t brushing up against one another.“The light is still on,” Emily complained.“Did you even take your shoes off?” Reid asked, lifting the blankets to stare down at Hotch’s feet.“We should have sex,” said Hotch.





	

**Author's Note:**

> “Oh dear,” said Emily. “There appears to only be one bed.”

“Ahh,” said Hotch. “This is unfortunate. I do wish the Bureau hadn’t quite cut back so much on our budget, causing me to book rooms in this shady hotel. I guess we’ll have to organize alternative sleeping arrangements.”

“Nope!” said Emily cheerfully, and leapt onto the singular bed that was the cause of this entire plotdicament. “We’ll just have to share, like a basket of puppies.” She eyed Hotch. “I gotta ask, do you sleep in the suit?”

Reid just stared. “But… this doesn’t make sense,” he said, the blinking intensifying. “Why… why are we three to a room? Why does this room _only consist of a bed?_ What doesn’t one of us sleep on the couch or the floor?”

Hotch, with superior restraint, frowned at Prentiss. “I do not sleep in the suit,” he replied, his voice a tone that would be bordering on snarky for any lesser man. “And I don’t think bed-sharing is the correct procedure for…”

Reid had turned the blinking onto Hotch. “For ‘there’s only one bed’?” he asked. “ _Is_ there a proper procedure for that? I don’t remember writing that handbook… and I _would_ remember.”

“Reid,” Emily said politely. The two men looked at her, both of them suddenly feeling very much like mice trapped in a room with a hungry cat. A hungry cat, and only one bed. “Get in the singular bed.”

Reid squeaked and did so, only pausing to kick off his shoes. The two agents stared at their boss; Reid with the blankets drawn up so high that only his hair was visible, and Emily with the same cocky grin she usually wore when about to corner a suspect during an interrogation.

“Aaron,” she began. Hotch, with the same self-preservation skills that had gotten him through his career at the FBI without _too_ much political suicide, cut her off by simply striding forward and getting into the bed before she could order him to.

He did have some pride, after all.

Silence fell on the room as they stared at the roof, all with a careful distance between them so they weren’t brushing up against one another.

“The light is still on,” Emily complained.

“Did you even take your shoes off?” Reid asked, lifting the blankets to stare down at Hotch’s feet.

“We should have sex,” said Hotch, and then wondered why he’d said that. Despite his confusion about where the errant desire had come from, at the mere mention of the word ‘sex’, he was immediately aroused and ready to go. “I mean…we should… have professional and dignified sex.”

“Well, okay,” said Emily brightly, and stripped off her shirt with one smooth movement, wiggling out of her pants under the covers. Reid just stared, his brain clearly having shut off and rebooted in an attempt to parse what had just been said. “But I don’t really do ‘dignified’.”

Reid continued staring.

“There’s nothing really professional about this,” Hotch admitted, unknotting his tie in what he imagined to be a sultry fashion. “Or logical, really, this could cost us our jobs. The Bureau is excruciatingly detailed on what conduct is allowed within units. Intercourse is not one of those allowed conducts, despite what Dave would have us believe.”

“What about a really feisty blowjob?” Emily asked curiously, growing bored of the weirdly slow way Hotch was undressing and undoing his shirt for him.

Reid continued staring.

“Unlikely,” Hotch said glumly, right as Emily went to work on that really feisty blowjob. “Reid, you don’t need to participate if you don’t wish. I left the keys in the car—you can go listen to the radio. There’s some candy in the glove compartment, and I think Jack left crayons in the back somewhere.”

Reid, with one long look down at the excitably salivary action going on in Hotch’s crotch, said, “No, no, I think I’m okay here. You guys… do your thing. I’ll, um, watch. For some reason.”

“Scientific observation,” Emily mumbled around a mouthful of cock.

“Voyeurism,” Hotch suggested, wondering if it would be impolite to ask for a kiss. From Prentiss, obviously, although…

Emily, who had never really bothered with things like ‘what’s impolite threesome conduct’, popped up and immediately found his mouth, the two of them thumping back down into the bed with a loud complaint from the bedsprings. And that was the end of both professionality and anything even remotely approaching dignified.

Reid, full of scientific curiosity, leaned closer and continued staring.

“I don’t know why this is happening,” he said finally, looking around the empty room with a sigh and, reluctantly, unknotting his own tie. “But I get the feeling that Morgan will never forgive me if I pass this opportunity up.” Since, unlike Emily, he _was_ actually the type of person to become anxious over things like ‘proper threesome conduct’, he then followed that statement by asking, “Um, would you mind if I joined in? Please.”

The two Very Naked agents broke apart and looked at him.

“Are you going to thank us the whole time?” Emily said, scrunching her nose with disconcertion at the thought.

“Um,” Reid said, his genius brain ticking as it searched for the right reply to that. “Only if you want me to?”

Emily grinned. “Good answer,” she purred, and dragged him into the mess of arms and legs.

After the three unlikely lovers all reached satisfying (and simultaneous, despite Reid being _very_ vocal about the unlikeliness of that actually happening) orgasms, they lay in a sated pile in the middle of the singular bed in the illogical hotel room. Cuddling. Because, if the Bureau let them get away with the undoubtedly extremely raunchy and provocative behaviour that had taken up the majority of the last three point five hours, a spot of post-coital snuggling surely wouldn’t be the straw on the camel’s back that saw them all fired.

“Wow,” Reid said, unable to stop smiling despite being uncomfortably sticky, overly exhausted, and bizarrely covered in glitter gel. “That was memorable.”

“That statement would mean more if it wasn’t you saying it,” Emily complained.

Hotch, staring at the roof once more and wondering just what exactly happened, mused, “As enjoyable as that experience was, I hope it doesn’t become a repeat occurrence. One oddly pornographic premise is viable. Two in short succession seems unlikely.”

“Don’t worry,” said Reid confidently, for he was naïve and full of misunderstandings about the whims of his audience, “I’m sure it won’t happen again. Where did you say the candy was?”

**Author's Note:**

> **Edited in August, 2017.**


End file.
